In the Form of Dreams, In the Shape of Puzzlement
by Juri.DP
Summary: Beautiful? Mito? Since when did he grace her with that much praise?


**This is dedicated to my cousin. MadaxMito is in no shape or form my forte, but I lurves him, so I gave it a shot.**

**Enjoy!**

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In the newly founded Hokage Tower located in the infant village known as Konohagakure, the first Hokage gathered his brother and Madara Uchiha to inform them of his latest decision.

"You're an idiot," Tobirama stated, leaned against the farthest wall from them.

"Hm?" Hashirama smiled pleasantly, seated upon his desk. "What's the problem?"

"The problem?" Madara echoed, seated in front of him. "Even I fail to see the logic in this, Hashirama. I am not a babysitter."

The First waved his hand dismissively. "This isn't babysitting. I'm entrusting you with someone very important to me."

"Then let me do it," Tobirama demanded. "Brother, you give too much credit to a man who is a ticking time bomb."

Madara looked in his direction, exhausted with his constant disapproval.

"Eh," Hashirama laughed. "Really, my mind is made up. I'm just informing you two."

* * *

"Lord First," a Konoha dignitary bowed, "we all wish you a safe trip."

"Yes, brother. We..." Tobirama paused, finding he was being ignored. He closed his eyes irritably. "At least pay attention to _us_."

"I'm sorry!" Hashirama cried, hugging his wife tightly. "This is a very emotional time for me."

Mito stood stoically, allowing her husband to hug her and promise she would always be in his thoughts. Madara stared in mild curiosity at the clashing dynamics of the two.

"Hashirama," Mito said, closing her eyes, "I do hope you hold yourself better when you meet with the representatives of Suna."

Hashirama sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head. "You're so tough in front of people, Mito. I wish I could take you with me."

"Nonsense," the redhead dismissed. "I must keep face while you are gone."

Hashirama became teary eyed again, squeezing his wife. "Oh, Mito!"

"Brother," Tobirama said impatiently, "start acting like a leader and get going."

The eldest reluctantly let go of his wife, sighing. "You're right..." He joined the three bodyguards that were to escort him. "I hope all will be well in my absence."

Tobirama grunted.

Madara shifted.

"Well then!" He bowed. "I will see you all when I return."

The remaining party watched as they departed. They had gotten no more than a few feet away when Hashirama's steps became uncertain—soon stopping all together. Everyone looked at him curiously.

"Is everything alright, sir?" one of the bodyguards asked.

"Yes, I'm...f-fine..." Hashirama shook, trying to take another step forward, but yelled, defeated, and ran back towards the gates.

Tobirama took a step forward. "Brother-?"

The eldest zipped by him, grabbing his wife by the face and engaging her in a passionate kiss.

Everyone stared, blinking lamely.

"Forgive me!" Hashirama smiled gaily, turning back out the gates. "Let's go, men! We don't want to be late to our first meeting."

When the leaving group had disappeared, the remaining group finally snapped out of their stupor. The dignitaries coughed, giving their best regards to Mito before departing. Tobirama merely shook his head at his brother's actions and left, giving a cautionary glare at Madara. With them gone, Madara and Mito remained as they were, staring out the gates. They said nothing for a short moment until Madara turned to her, rolling his eyes.

"You have womanly qualities, after all, I see."

Mito turned to him, her cheeks flushed. "My husband...is very spontaneous."

"Hn." He turned, walking away. He didn't get very far before he stopped, irritated. "Don't follow me."

"Pardon?"

"You're a grown woman. I have no intentions of carrying out his plans."

"I understand," she said, dignified, yet, stubborn. "But my husband has made it clear that you are to watch over me while he is away."

Madara groaned. Mito had the disposition of a rational, level-headed woman, but he wondered how true that could possibly be.

She agreed to marry Hashirama, after all.

* * *

**The Next Morning**

"Oi."

Madara groaned. The blankets were yanked from the dark-haired man, and he glared up at the one standing at the side of his bed.

"Get up," Tobirama deadpanned.

.

.

.

.

And it was on this morning—when Madara Uchiha woke up in the guest room located in the Hokage Tower—that he took on the role of watching over Mito Senju, a former Uzumaki, until his best friend and rival, Hashirama Senju, returned in two weeks.

.

.

.

.

After getting dressed and preparing for the day, Madara closed the curtains to the windows and sat on the edge of his bed.

For many reasons, he was annoyed.

He didn't intend to completely blow off Hashirama's wishes, but he had planned to do them his own way. For one thing, he would have been in his own house located in the comfort of the Uchiha Clan and not in the guest wing of the Hokage Tower. Another thing, he would have simply kept tabs on Mito a few times a day until he returned. He saw no reason to follow her around; she wasn't followed by Hashirama even when he was here.

No, this was not the ideal situation for him, so he found it hard to start this tedious process—especially since Tobirama, who had strongly opposed this decision, now enforced it like it was part of Konoha Law.

Groaning, Madara forced himself up and over to the door. When he opened it, a surprised Mito stood on the other side, hand posed as if ready to knock. Caught off guard, Madara blinked at the childlike expression on the otherwise expressionless woman.

"Well then," Mito said, her usual composure returning. "You seem well."

Madara raised a scrutinizing brow. "Well?"

She nodded once. "Tobirama informed me, and I quote, 'The Uchiha's spirits are deathly'."

"Ah."

"Please, take this anyway." In her other hand, she presented an orange.

Madara stared at it, eyes squinting in confusion.

"It is to lift your spirits," Mito informed.

He took the fruit from her. Irrationally, he thought it had to be special in some way, but she, in fact, just handed him a normal fruit. "I don't understand your motives," he finally said.

"Oranges, I believe, have a multitude of healing abilities that include, but are not limited to, restoring health, easing pain, and alleviating moods."

At this, Madara didn't know if she had made complete sense or none at all. So, as a response, he simply nodded like he understood.

"But do not eat it yet," Mito said. "Breakfast is ready."

o0o0o

He was convinced now that Mito may not have been the woman he thought she was. Generally speaking, he did not converse with her on a personal level because Hashirama's family and bonds never interested him. He did, however, take the Senju's wife as being dutiful, dignified, and logical, but...either most of that was all for show or Hashirama's eccentric personality was contagious in a terrifyingly subtle way.

"Are you enjoying it?"

Madara focused, looking up to stare across the kitchen table at Tobirama, but quickly looked to his left at Mito. "What was that?"

"The food," she clarified. "Is it good?"

The food... The bowl of mushroom mixed soup...was rather bland. He found himself enjoying his water more.

"It is edible."

She nodded once; a small smile was on her lips as she turned to her brother-in-law. "I have gotten better, yes?"

Tobirama nodded. "Your culinary skills are exceptionally better than before."

Madara almost choked on his food. _She _cooked this, and there had been a _worse_ scenario? He glanced at her and saw a faint blush dusted across her cheeks. She was...pleased with the comments, and he couldn't understand why something like this would make her happy.

It was bizarre.

"So," Tobirama said, "what do you have planned today?"

Mito thought for a moment. "The school Hashirama wants to open is almost completed, so I must inspect it to make sure it remains to his liking. There is also the matter of where to build a hospital."

"A meeting has already been held for this."

"Yes, but the location is far too close to the Hokage Tower. Anyone who is deemed worthy of protecting the village must also know how to take care of him or herself. With that being said, I believe the hospital should be more accessible to all citizens."

"Very well." Tobirama stood from the table, collecting his kitchenware. "You certainly have a day ahead of you."

"I also plan to visit the Uchihas."

Both men paused, looking at her.

"Come again?" the white-haired questioned.

"The Uchihas. I wish to see how they are adapting."

"They're _fine_," Tobirama insisted. "They have their own section of the village and they're head of police. There's no reason for you to go there."

"I have heard your concerns, dear brother, but I want to see for myself. Besides, Madara will be with me."

o0o0o

Was she a burden or was he just unpleasant?

He didn't know, but, as the day progressed, Madara found his presence to be exceedingly unnecessary. She spent the first few hours of the morning at the school where the main focus seemed to be the layout of a playground. Personally, he didn't see the purpose of it. These children were training to become ninjas, so what use did a playground serve? It was a rather foolish thing to even consider.

Until the afternoon, she had debated back and forth with builders about the location of the hospital. They insisted it was beneficial for it to be close to the Tower, but the combination of Mito's disposition and her marriage to the Hokage convinced them to push it back. Not too far, but both parties were pleased.

And now the amusing part arrived: The visit to the Uchihas.

Madara had been somewhat impatient with waiting for this encounter. There was nothing she could possibly expect from his brethren that she had not already seen. Their fear had them eager to agree to whatever happened to them, and their lack of will had them passively living this mundane life with superficial titles. Did she expect to see them fall at her feet and praise her like a god? Did she expect to catch a glimpse of their true emotions and then bask in their veiled misery?

He didn't know.

But without the protection of her husband, he was curious as to how they would respond to her.

When they entered the clan, they were immediately greeted by stares and mumbles. The Uchihas recognized the red-head woman as the Hokage's wife, but now Madara was with her. This either meant very good or very bad news.

Mito looked around at the buildings of the clan. The entire village was adequately built—there was too much to be done for it all to look extravagant all at once—but she wondered why the Uchiha's dwellings were significantly more lackluster. She looked at Madara. "This clan needs remodeling."

"This clan needs liberation."

"I do not understand your meaning."

"The Uchihas have been limited to the police force, but there are those who are suitable for other jobs. Carpenters, political figures, medic nin—this village lacks it all, even with a surplus of handicapable men." He shrugged. "It's too bad these men are of Uchiha blood."

"You cannot truly believe the Uchihas are being oppressed."

"Bet upon it, I do. We are far below the law, but we could change it if we ban together."

"Staging a coup? Madara, there are other ways." The red-head walked to an open area where a decent amount of people passed. Madara looked at her when she stopped. "Uchiha clan," Mito called, much to the shock of the man next to her, "I request you all gather around and hear me."

There was a confused silence that settled, but Madara was surprised to see his clan slowly making their way over to them. Surely, this had to be because of the woman's ranking, because he didn't see why they would listen to her.

"Are you all happy?" Mito asked.

Blank stares and shifty eyes were her response.

"To ensure the success of the village, we all need to live in equalized harmony. If there is oppression, we stop it. If there is injustice, we fix it. So, I ask again, are you happy? If not, please express your grievances now."

The clan looked amongst each other warily. Was this a joke? Some kind of trap? They were happy enough to not constantly be at war with the Senju clan, so was she trying to provoke them? With Madara being here, the likeliness of that scenario was slim, so...

"Well..." all eyes shot to a young male in the back, "unless you're a member of the police force...there really aren't jobs available."

Mito nodded, thinking. "So, you wish to be deployed on missions?"

"A-actually, not all of us are cut out for that kind of stuff."

"Is it possible to have...normal jobs?" an older woman asked.

"Normal?" Mito scanned the faces. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well..."

o0o0o

Madara walked by Mito's side; somehow he was peeved by what had transpired. He looked at her; she was rather content with herself. "You got lucky," the man muttered.

She glanced at him, smiling pleasantly. "All I did was get them to talk to me, dear Madara. The hard part has yet to come."

That may be true, but he hadn't expected his clan to be so mouthy about the changes they wanted—especially when they were all minor. If they were going to voice their concerns, shouldn't they have demanded more? Like integration into the village? Political positions? Equal rights to a _humane_ degree?

Instead they asked for normal work... Entertainment facilities... Parks?

They were all too complacent.

* * *

**Three Days Later**

Madara woke on his own. He was rather...bored with his friend/rival being away. The Uchiha clan had gotten soft, Tobirama was making it hard not to be violent, and Mito was an odd mix of logic and naivety.

Hashirama at least made sense with his predictable nature.

After getting ready for the day, he began to wonder why no one had bothered him yet. These past few days he was imposed upon by either Tobirama or Mito, so he found it odd, if not a little suspicious, that he had not seen or heard from them.

He exited his room and ventured to the Hokage's office. He thought about knocking, but decided against it. They should probably think about getting someone to guard the doors. When he entered, he saw Mito seated at the desk, scribbling things down and looking over files. She looked at him.

"You're awake," she mumbled as a greeting, looking back at the papers.

"What are you doing?"

"Setting a budget, managing appointments, planning events... Hokage business."

"Are there not other officials who handle these matters?"

"Indeed there are, but my husband likes to do these himself."

That was news to him. He never saw Hashirama do anything like this. "So, why not have those officials do them now?"

She looked up at him, tapping her pen against her lips. "Do you not find me qualified to handle these affairs, Madara?"

"Those were not my words."

"But it is my question."

He took a moment to think, assessing the situation. "You're more qualified than most women."

"Hm," she nodded, gesturing to the chairs in front of her. "Take a seat."

"A seat?"

"Yes," she muttered, busying herself once again. "Keep me company."

He didn't move for a few minutes, but she didn't look at him or request it again. Begrudgingly, he acknowledged he had nothing better to do, so he sat in silence with her for the remainder of the morning.

* * *

As the days moved on, Madara found Mito to be a rather...tolerable woman.

Perhaps that wasn't the right word because, honestly, he didn't know how to describe her.

Before he was charged with watching the woman, he would have said she was well-kept together. However, due to the time they've spent, he discovered she was more complex than that. She was smart, but she had her moments of hard-headedness. The aura she emitted was intimidating (could even be classified as overwhelming), but this was because she was absently thinking more often than not, and her disposition was naturally striking.

She also had more womanly qualities than he would have ever pegged her for.

Every morning, she would cook for him and Tobirama (the same bowl of mushroom mix soup), and she always adorned a faint blush when given (what she interpreted as) a compliment. A few times, he caught her eyeing her reflection in anything that would show her, and she would delicately touch her face as though making sure everything was in order. These were but a few things he noticed, and he rather...liked...this human side of hers. He had always thought a woman like her was ill-suited for Hashirama, but maybe it was a decent match after all.

Currently, Madara stood outside the soon-to-be Konoha Academy while Mito took care of business inside. A few children were brought in just to see if it would be to the soon-to-be genins' likings, and Madara, personally, could do without seeing this portion of the inspection. Not only were children not his top priority, but they were afraid of him.

Slumping against the building, he looked towards the courtyard. It was almost surreal that, in his lifetime, he had witnessed nothing but brutal war with needless killings, and now he was witnessing the beginning of a peaceful era.

He found it hard to find pleasure in it.

If all it took was for one side to swallow their pride and cast away years of hatred, why couldn't this day have come sooner? Why, after his family had been slaughtered, did this day choose to come? Who could he rejoice with? Who could he hold dear and be grateful that he wouldn't have to lose them? Who could he turn to, and finally say, "It's all over"?

He had no one.

There was no one else in his position.

Even Hashirama, who had endured that horrid lifetime with him, would never understand. He still had his brother to hold on to. His dream of founding a village had come true, _and_ he was allowed to lead it. He had even been honored with a woman that was both brave and beautiful...

…

Madara scrunched a brow.

Beautiful? Mito?

Since when did he grace her with that much praise?

He shook his head, turning when he heard stumbling feet coming from the building. Ten children raced out, screaming and laughing, expressing their pleasure and satisfaction over something he couldn't understand.

"They seem to like it, my lady," a man said. Mito and one of the workers walked out.

"Indeed," the red-head nodded. "I say we should not change a thing. The children seem to like it as is, so there is no need to spoil them."

"Understood..." The man looked at her warily before pulling out a rolled paper. "But...since your judgment seems to be more...sound than Lord First, I would like your second opinion before we declare this as finished."

Mito frowned. "What is it?"

"Well, you see, ma'am," he unrolled the paper, "our Hokage has instructed we build a man-made river that runs through the Academy grounds."

Mito looked at the blueprints, clearly not understanding what she was looking at. "Did he give a reason?"

"He said it would be nice for the children to...skip rocks across."

She stared at the man for a moment. "Skip...rocks?"

"That's...what he said, ma'am."

"Of course he did..." She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Proceed with the plans, but scratch _that_," she gestured to the blueprints. "I will take full responsibility when he returns. You _can_ have this completed by the time he returns, can't you?"

The man nodded. "With the river out of the equation, we should be done within the next five days."

"Excellent. Your work here has been most desirable."

The man grinned. "Thank you, ma'am."

Mito bowed her head before turning away from him. She spotted Madara, who had feigned being lost in thought, and made her way over to him.

He looked at her when she was close enough to be noticed. "You are finished?"

"I am." She exhaled, her exhaustion showing.

He raised a brow. "You could use some rest."

She looked at him, slightly amused. "My word, Madara, that may have been the first bit of concern I've seen you express." She brought a hand to her mouth, laughing softly. "And for _me_, no less? What an honor."

He grunted, only slightly uncomfortable.

"Come." Mito looked to the late afternoon sky. "We have no more business today, unless there is something you wish to do."

"Do not misunderstand, I would love nothing more than to get you home."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because then Tobirama is the one watching you."

She laughed, and the two began their walk back.

As most of their journeys together, it was pleasantly quiet. He wondered when was the last time he could be at ease around another human being. He had his moments with Hashirama, but, more often than not, the Senju liked to talk. He usually tuned him out or used his voice as background noise, but, he supposed, his friend was an exception to most people. He doesn't tolerate anyone else like him, so it could only be a once in a lifetime chance that he could tolerate him at all.

Curiously, he looked over to Mito. She was staring straight ahead, thoughtful, and he wondered for the briefest of moments what could preoccupy her mind so much.

* * *

**Days Later**

She had been in...good spirits these last few days. He suspected he knew why, but he didn't question her on it; it was quite obvious what may have such an impact on her.

Hashirama would be back tomorrow.

After she made breakfast, Mito had glided out of the kitchen for reasons she did not express, leaving the Uchiha and younger Senju alone. They took to eating in silence, with the occasional glare being thrown for small disturbances including, but not limited to, chewing too loud, setting cups down with distinct clinks, having their utensils making contact with their bowls, and breathing.

"Tobi!"

Both men looked at each other.

"Tobi, can you hear me?" Mito called.

Madara smirked, looking at his plate; Tobirama grunted, looking towards the door.

"What is it, Mito?" he answered.

"Where are the pine scented candles?"

"Did you check the hall closet?"

There was shuffling of feet, followed by anticipated silence.

"Found them! Thank you, Tobi!"

Silence fell among the men again—one humored, one annoyed.

"Tobi, huh?" Madara said.

"Shut up."

"What a harmless nickname for such a mean-faced man."

"You're lucky you are my brother's friend."

"You are lucky you're my friend's brother."

The men exchanged heated stares until Mito walked into the room, humming to herself.

"Tobi," she said offhandedly, "stop glaring at our guest."

The Senju suppressed a groan.

* * *

Early the next day, Mito, Madara, Tobirama, and two other dignitaries stood outside the gates to await the Hokage's arrival. Madara found this little display to be more than a little unnecessary, and he pitied the village if this became customary.

He took this time to observe Mito's countenance. She showed subtle signs of being on edge, and he found it to be...new...of her. He wondered how he never noticed these odd traits of hers before.

Not much time had passed before Tobirama announced he could sense his brother's chakra approaching. In the distance, four figures came into view. The ones at the gate adjusted their postures.

"Hey... Hey!" The blaring boom of Hashirama's voice was easily heard from their distance. "No way!" He began running in their direction, his company advising him that, as Hokage, he should stay close to them, but he ignored them and gaily lengthened the distance. It was slightly embarrassing for all to see him act this way. He was the main representative for their village, and, while he was undoubtedly powerful, his tendencies could easily make them the laughing-stock of the shinobi world.

"I see your time in Suna has not changed you," Tobirama mumbled.

Hashirama stopped in front of them, panting and grinning. "What are you guys doing here?" His eyes sparkled, looking at each face. "Were you waiting for us?"

"Of course," Mito replied, her disposition nothing but stoic. "Do you think I would really be out here if not to see you?"

Hashirama looked at her, his cheeks tinting. "You wanted to see _me_?"

She frowned slightly, realizing she had made her statement a bit too personal. Closing her eyes, she turned her head. "Do not be so presumptuous. You are my husband, so what need have I to see-"

Hashirama lunged forward, embracing her tightly. "I've missed you, too, Mito," he murmured against her temple.

Everyone turned a blind eye to the red-head's red face.

o0o0o

"Whoa, it smells like pine in here!" Hashirama exclaimed, looking around the tower in awe. "Tobirama, is this your doing?"

"Hardly," he responded, walking away. "My sister-in-law—your wife—took it upon herself to make your return pleasant."

"Tobi," Mito said sternly, though her embarrassment was present.

Hashirama looked to his wife, smiling. "Did she now?" He chuckled, swiping a finger across his nose smugly. "Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? Maybe now you will be more open about your feelings toward me."

Mito huffed, walking on. "Do not make a sport of me, Hashirama."

"Wh-what?! Sport?!" He ran after her. "Dear, I only meant it with love!"

Madara raised a brow. The Senju household was more comical than he would have ever given credit. If he had not grown to know Mito's character, he would have guessed she ran a strict home.

Sighing, he walked to his room to pack up his things. The sooner he got back to his own home, the sooner he could go back to a quiet, predictable lifestyle. No more early mornings to check on the progress of the village. No more glare matches with a man he should have made Hashirama kill. And especially no more babysitting a grown woman, who hardly needed supervision. He could do without her odd ways, her bland breakfasts, her spaced out stares, her senseless embarrassment, her random blushes that accentuated her femininity, her soft smiles...

...

Her...calm aura when she basked in the evening atmosphere... The way she could hide her emotions in the blink of an eye...

Madara stopped in the doorway of his room, wondering what his mind was thinking. He wouldn't...miss Mito at all...

"Ah! Madara!"

He turned, seeing Hashirama running his way. "What is it?"

Hashirama froze, soon becoming crestfallen. "'What?' says the man who has known me longer than my own wife... 'What?' says the man who helped me shape this village... 'What?' says the-"

"Quit sulking. Your return is as predictable as the rising sun, so do not expect me to feel surprised."

The Senju perked up. "So, you have faith in me?"

"Why have you come to me, Hashirama? I wish to retrieve my things and head home."

"What? Why would you do that?"

"Why would I stay?"

"Because..." he scratched the side of his cheek, "I just...got back."

"If you're wanting to spend time together, then it certainly is not dependent on whether or not I remain here."

"But we never got the chance to have a sleepover!"

Madara twitched, facing him fully. "Come again?"

"We spent our whole lives in battle and never got to do normal things."

"And, as a normal thing, you choose...a sleepover...?" He felt ridiculous for even saying the word. "I am not agreeing to that."

"But Madara-"

"No."

"Can we at least-"

"No."

"You won't even let me-"

"_No._"

Hashirama sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Will you at least stay for dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"Yup! Mito said she wants to cook something spectacular."

o0o0o

Madara stared at the bowl of mushroom mixed soup, not knowing whether or not this was a joke. _This_ was the spectacular meal? What they've eaten for the past two weeks was supposed to be-

"Whoa, my favorite!"

He looked at Hashirama, only slightly taken off guard.

The Senju looked up at his wife, smiling widely. "Thanks, Mito."

She turned her head, her face indifferent. "I do not cook often, so enjoy it while you can."

The men ate. Tobirama consumed his meal with the same level of stoicism as he had all this time. Hashirama ate diligently, occasionally proclaiming his love of the dish. Madara, however, had grown tired of it a while ago, and the bland flavor was only slightly enhanced from any other time he ate it. He glanced at Mito and found her watching her husband intently—almost nervously.

Could it be...that she was trying to perfect her skills this whole time?

She claimed to not cook often, but that's all she's been doing since the man left. Did she not cook around _him—_her own husband? With cooking like hers, it wasn't hard to understand why, but was there really a need for her bashfulness? It was far too cute for-

Madara blinked at his bowl, backtracking his thoughts. That had to be a slip.

o0o0o

When they finished their meals, Tobirama excused himself. Hashirama put on a grand show, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach heartily.

"Whew! That was the best I've ever had!"

Mito collected his bowl. "Do not slump at the table."

He grinned, watching her retreat.

Madara stood, causing Hashirama to look up. "I appreciate your hospitality," he said to his hosts. "I will now take my leave."

"But what about our sleepover?"

"Stop."

The Senju sighed, getting to his feet. "Fine, fine. I'll wait here until you pack up then..."

Madara left, going straight to his room. He didn't have much to pack, but he took his time. All of a sudden, things were trivial and complicated. He wanted be gone as soon as possible, but he didn't want to see anyone as he ventured. There was a lot about a normal life that he didn't understand—that made him uneasy—and Hashirama's life had all the elements he didn't want to approach.

He had village wide acceptance.

He had the freedom to dream and obtain.

He had a brother who was still alive.

He had a wife...

...

Again, he found himself frozen, reflecting on his thoughts.

o0o0o

He exited his room and made his way through the tower. As much as it bugged him, he figured he'd give a fleeting goodbye to his old friend, if not to see him distressed at his departure.

"Don't make a fool of me, Hashirama."

"What an odd thing of you to say."

Madara slowed, hearing the voices of those in the kitchen. He peered inside for the sake of curiosity alone. His hosts were near the sink—Mito holding onto Hashirama, unable to look at him, as he trapped her against the counter.

"You didn't really like it," she accused.

"Is that what this is about?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Your cooking has greatly improved, but I have always loved it."

She shook her head. "My skills as a wife end at the title. My cooking is terrible-"

"I dare say it's the best around."

"-I cannot clean well-"

"I've never seen a cleaner place."

"-I fail as a lover-"

"Now that's a flat-out lie."

She huffed, looking at him with stubborn eyes. "You should have opposed our marriage."

He cocked his head to the side. "Now why would I do that, Mito? Why would I give up the opportunity to find my soul mate?"

"Soul mate." She laughed, taunting. "You merely try to ease my doubts."

"No. I merely try to remind myself of my good fortune as often as possible."

She stared at him, her face steadily reddening, and rested her head on his chest. Hashirama laughed loudly, hugging her close.

Madara left after that.

* * *

_0-0-0-0-0-0_

* * *

Opening his sagging eyes, Madara blinked slowly. He looked up from where he was seated and stared at the Uchiha boy—the one who barely missed death when the cave collapsed.

Obito was his name.

"Memories," the aged man muttered. They came and went in the form of dreams...

Mito...

She came and went in the shape of puzzlement—even after all this time.

* * *

_**Thank you for reading!**_


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